


Pain

by Polarnacht



Series: Broken [2]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Shadowhunter Chronicles - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Dark, Despair, Hurt No Comfort, Jace Wayland-centric, Pain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-07
Updated: 2020-06-07
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:29:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24585349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Polarnacht/pseuds/Polarnacht
Summary: Jace is hold captive on the Morningstar without any hope of being rescued.
Series: Broken [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1840363
Comments: 8
Kudos: 17
Collections: Hunter's Moon 500 Prompts





	Pain

**Author's Note:**

> written for Hunter's Moon 500 prompts (5oo words or less) - Prompt Fill: pride

Jace heard the door to his cell crack open with a shriek. He didn’t bother to look up. Under him he felt the soft rocking of the Morningstar that fought its way through the rough sea.

He had given up hope that anyone would find and rescue him a long time ago. He knew that no tracking worked as long as he was surrounded by water - and the Morningstar never stopped moving.

He smelt the food Valentine’s underling was bringing and his stomach rumbled in return, a faint reminder that once he had been a human being. Once, so many months ago.

Jace felt a boot connecting with his rips causing a jolt of pain rushing through his body. He was not sure if the rip broke just then or was already broken days ago, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. Broken bones could be mended, besides, he didn’t need a functional body. Not anymore. Except for a muffled grunt he didn’t show any responds.

“Beg.” The command rang through the cell, but Jace just turned around to face the stony wall of his prison. It was not about pride, it had stopped being about pride weeks ago. He just didn’t care enough.

With a shrug the man retreated, taking the tray of food with him, humming a light tone while he shut the door behind him with a loud bang.

Later that day, or maybe days later, it was hard to tell in the darkness and coldness of his prison, Jace heard other steps approach, steps he would recognize everywhere in his sleep. The door opened and Jace turned around, looking up to meet the eyes of the man who had raised him as a son for 10 years – to meet the eyes of the man who had been his father when such labels still had mattered.

Valentine stepped in the tiny room and looked down on Jace with a cold, distance glare in his eyes. The disappointment was written all over his face.

Jace tried to stand up, but his legs gave way under him, the lack of nutrition demanding its toll. He landed on his knees with a pained yelp.

“Please.” Jace’s voice sounded hoarse from days of disuse and lack of water. “Please, father. Kill me.”

Valentine looked down on Jace, a cruel smile on his lips.

“Not yet, Jonathan. Not yet.”

He turned around and left the cell, ignoring the last, desperate “please” that spilled out of his son’s mouth.

No, it was not about pride if Jace begged or not – it just had to matter.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos are loved 💙


End file.
